Bonding Over Bones
by Tressa
Summary: Dr. Brennan and Booth bond over bones


Title: Bonding Over Bones

Author: Tressa

Rating: K+

Summery: Dr. Brennan and Booth bond over bones.

Disclaimer: Bones and Booth and anyone else mentioned in this story are not mine. They're property of FOX , Josephson Entertainment, and Far Field Productions. Please do not sue.

This is based solely off the television. I have not had the privilege of reading Kathy Reich's books, but intend on picking them up and reading them.

The lab was quiet, which he found a bit unusual. No science terms being tossed to and fro, no sounds of Angela's persistent suggestions for the good doctor to have fun, nothing. He didn't know whether to be afraid or not. Nonetheless, Agent Seeley Booth decided to risk a peek inside.

Surprisingly, or maybe not so surprisingly, he found Dr. Temperance Brennan leaning over a laid out skeleton. Pausing in the doorway to that particular room, he watched in silence as she carefully inspected each bone and jotted down notes on the pad of paper she was holding. Though arguments were many and constant, they both grudgingly respected each other for their abilities and talents. And this was no exception.

So absorbed in her work, she didn't notice him at all. Which was fine by him. He found himself smiling as she picked up what appeared to be a leg bone and look at it every which way, wrote something down, then continue to examine it. Her eyes crinkled as she looked at it closely, then smiled to herself as she set down that particular specimen before moving on to another. It was no wonder she didn't get out a whole lot. Watching her, taking in her actions, she really did love her work. It was no wonder she become so wrapped in it. He watched as she took bone by bone,  
examine it, then set it back down, recording observations when necessary.

It was almost a calming experience watching her work. He was used to her blabbing off so many scientific words and hearing her insistence that they could only rely on facts, that he always managed to miss the intricate dealings of her work. And it became no wonder why she, an anthropologist, had such difficulties socially. She was, in a way, able to communicate with the dead. He had to stifle a laugh at his statement. He could see himself saying that. And she would come back with the statement that just because she was an anthropologist, didn't necessarily mean that she understood people enough to be able to associate with them. It just meant she was able analyze and interpret human behavior and try and determine how they thought and why they did things.

Leaning up against the door jamb, he observed her as she picked up the skull. It was then she glanced up and took notice of him. "Booth?"

Pushing himself off the side of the entry way and walked toward her. "The case has been solved,  
I was just stopping by to see if there was anything else you needed to add to the evidence you've already given us." He smirked at the look she gave him. "I just want to make sure everything's been covered, Bones."

He held his own as she gazed at him for a moment, then returned to her work. "Everything is in there. Zach and I reviewed it all." She set down the skull. "We don't have anything else to add."

He nodded, adverting his view to the skull on the table. "I figured. I thought I'd check, that's all."

She said nothing, but he could feel her gaze as he leaned over and began inspecting the bones himself, though he knew nothing regarding forensics. "What are you looking at here?" he asked.

"Some remains from the time of the civil war," she said.

He nodded. It never ceased to amaze him the trust that people all over the world put in her to look over their dead, including those from their home country. "So, what's the verdict?"

She looked confused. "The verdict?"

"Yeah, what it is."

He could sense her hesitation, but at the same time, knew she was itching to explain every bit of information she had derived from it. In the end, her urge to share won out. He moved to the side as she carefully lifted the skull from the examination table. "It's in wonderful condition," she explained. "If you look here at the mandible, it's not a sharp ninety degree angle." He leaned in close to her, looking at the jaw line as her finger traced it out. She then raised her finger to the eye brow ridge. "And look at the supraorbital ridge. It's extreme."

"And . . ." he replied, not entirely sure at what she was saying.

She set down the skull and ran a gloved hand across her brow ridge. "This is a slight, supraorbital ridge." Then, to his surprise, she took off the plastic glove and ran a finger across his brow ridge. His first instinct was to pull back, but he remained firmly in his place, allowing her to gently trace his brow ridge. His heart skipped a beat at her touch and it took all his control to prevent the blood from rushing to his face. "And this," she continued softly. "Is an extreme supraorbital ridge."

She paused in her narration as he looked at her, taking in her eyes, her facial features. It was a shame that such an intelligent woman like her had to be alone. "So," he continued, his tone just as soft. "What does an extreme supraorbital ridge mean?" He moved a bit closer to her.

"It means," she said, her breath catching. "It means that the skeleton is possibly from a male."

"Possibly?" he pressed. He didn't know that forensics could be so entertaining. He had heard it being like a puzzle, and this puzzle's pieces were almost complete. He also happened to have an extremely intelligent puzzle solver with him.

"Well," Temperance said, moving toward the middle of the body. "A skull can give us sometime of hint as to what gender it is. But a rock solid determinate is the pelvic bone." She began to point out the differences. "Sciatic notches are wide and broad on the female. They tend to have an indentation in this area." He caught the wisp of smile cross her face. "Makes it possible to procreate." She traced the area on the bone. "Males have little or none at all. It also tends to be more flat here." She pointed to another area. "For the males, at least. Females, it's more pronounced." She went to move her finger, but he stopped her, taking her hand in his. He felt her stiffen, but didn't let go.

"So," he said. "If we were to both die here, they'd be able to tell whether or not we were male or female." He rubbed a tender part on her hand.

She exhaled shakily. "Well, assuming that both of us had decomposed to the point where the only thing remaining were our skeletal structures were remaining, then yes. Although, since we're in a highly trafficked area, it's really illogical that . . ." She stopped as he put a finger to her lips.

"Do you always have to talk during the most inappropriate times?" he asked, eliciting a tiny laugh from her.

"I, uh, do tend to talk a lot, don't I," she admitted.

"Yeah, but I won't count that against you," he joked. "Tell you what, Bones. You think Mr.  
John Doe here could wait, at the minimum, a couple of hours while you join me for dinner?"

"And Tessa?"

He had to bite his tongue to prevent himself from saying something wrong. Tessa had broken up with him for a number of reasons. Too much time at work, too much time at the lab, not enough time focused on them. And Booth had to agree. His job consumed most of his time. His association with Temperance had caused him to be at the Institution on more then one occasion. He had tried his hardest, had put a whole lot of effort into trying to keep his relationship with her afloat. In the end, it didn't work out. And they finally had to part ways. He could still see her pained expression as she rattled off the reasons why she couldn't be with him anymore. The tears in her eyes. And it had hurt him that it had to end that way. But he wasn't ready to tell Dr.  
Brennan all of that. Not yet. "Um, we ended our relationship," he finally said. "Our jobs were starting to conflict."

Her expression was of one who didn't believe what he was telling her, but wisely, she chose not address the issue further. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," he answered. "If it was meant to be, it would've worked out."

She opened her mouth as if to say something, then shut it. Booth silently thanked her. Maybe she wasn't as socially inept like everyone claimed she was. He felt her hand on his shoulder and locked gazes with her. "So," he said, pushing aside all previous pains and memories, and offering her his arm. "What about that dinner?"

A pause, then a snap as the gloves came off and whoosh as the lab coat followed. "Lead the way,  
Agent Booth," Temperance agreed, accepting his arm.

He chuckled. "My pleasure, Dr. Brennan."


End file.
